


Our new world underground

by TransverseLadybird



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 04, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 02:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransverseLadybird/pseuds/TransverseLadybird
Summary: Starts where pre-timejump season 4 left off for the people trapped in the bunker.Miller and Jackson had a pre-apocalypse fling but now they face 5 years together with few other friends around. All of the bunker residents have to deal with claustrophobia, old fights, and coping with their losses.This will focus on Miller and Jackson, but I love Kabby and Octavia, so there will be chapters with these other characters as well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly different version also written by me is posted on FF.net
> 
> Bryan: I don't know what happened to Bryan. To be honest, I can't remember if it was addressed, so in my headcanon, he was part of Jasper's death cult.

With their jobs – always on shift work – Miller felt like he hadn’t seen Jackson in weeks. It was grating on him, particularly because it seemed that Jackson was the only friend he had left. The bunker was tiny; smaller than the Ark and Mount Weather, and he was getting claustrophobic.

He checked the time. Jackson should have been back from the hospital by now. He sighed. He should be trying to sleep, but it seemed a distant goal. The breathing of the people in the surrounding beds sounded louder and louder with every passing second. He gritted his teeth against the noise.

Maybe a walk would work.

Life in the bunker was too much like life in the Ark. Shift times were strict, and there was no break from the endless fluorescents in the hallways. They made Miller’s eyes dry. He walked through an empty hallway. It was the time when all non-essential personnel were asleep. He was supposed to be, as well.

Though he didn’t have a conscious destination in mind he wasn’t surprised when he wound up in the corridor that led to the hospital.

Abby was walking away from it.

“Nathan?” She said in surprise. “What are you doing here? Is everything ok?” She bit her lip as if regretting the question.

“Everything’s fine,” he said, snapping.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “We all miss David so much.”

Miller blinked away the tears that came to his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, looking away.

“Are you after something?” She asked. “If you’re looking for Kane, he’s in the monitoring room.”

“I was looking for Jackson, actually.”

“Oh. He went to bed about an hour ago,” she said, looking at her watch.

He hadn’t come to the dorm. Maybe she meant the medic bed; the bed Abby or Jackson slept in when they were both needed on call.

Abby smiled at him, and continued to the medical supply cupboard and back to the hospital.

The door to the medic bed was next to the hospital. He stood next to it, then knocked, feeling like an idiot. He even rolled his eyes at himself.

The door opened from the inside and Miller found himself face to face with Jackson.

“What is it?” He asked. Though soft, there was no warmth in his voice.

“I just,” Miller started, ashamed of stuttering slightly. He leant on the doorframe. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Jackson stood back to allow him in. There was no space so he sat on the small bed.

Jackson didn’t sit. He stood by the closed door, his arms crossed.

“I thought you’d come back to the dorm,” said Miller, cursing himself slightly for being so lame. “I thought we could...” _Could what?_ He thought to himself. _Play cards with their improvised deck? Sleep at the same time in adjacent bunks?_ Even that seemed a luxury.

“I wanted to be alone. I know it’s selfish, but I have access to it. And Abby never uses it anymore.” Abby took every opportunity to be with Kane now, so every time she had to sleep she would go to his quarters. Albeit with her pager strapped to her with the volume turned up.

“It’s not selfish,” said Miller. “Most people would give anything for a bit of privacy here. Not that there’s much to be had.” He was nervous, he realised. Really nervous. It hit him hard just how alone they were now, when they never really had been before. Not for any length of time.

The room grew still with the awkward silence that followed.

Miller stood up abruptly, unable to take the silence. “I’d better go,” he said.

“There’s no hard feelings, you know,” said Jackson, not looking up from his feet, or uncrossing his arms.

“What do you mean?” Asked Miller, looking his friend in the face for the first time.

“I know. With Bryan and all. I don’t. I don’t expect anything more.” Bryan had chosen to die instead of fight. Bryan had never forgiven him. Miller had never forgiven Bryan. Bryan was irrevocably in the past.

“What?” Miller asked curtly. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“I didn’t want to impose. But I’m here if you need me.”

“Eric, you’re the only friend I have left in this stupid place,” he said, irrationally angry for some reason. “And having you in the next bunk is the only way I’ll get a decent night sleep.” Jackson’s quiet, sad acceptance of the status quo broke some resistance in Miller. He had been patient with Jackson because he thought he was shy. But it was because Jackson thought he didn’t feel the same? “I’m sick of getting barely five minutes with you when we’re both off work. I’m sick of you pulling away when I hug you. I’m sick of you treating me like glass.”

Jackson met his eyes with surprise.

Miller stepped forward, his heart hammering. He pulled Jackson forward without breaking the eye contact. He grabbed the back of his head, threading his hand through the man’s black hair. He kept eye contact the entire time as he rested his forehead against the other man’s. Jackson seemed about to resist, pulling back slightly, but not very far.

“I just want _you_ , ok?” He said roughly. Jackson shook his head, but didn’t try to pull away again.

“Why?” Asked Jackson. Miller didn’t respond to the idiotic question. Instead, he pressed his lips fiercely against Jackson’s.

“I thought,” breathed Jackson raggedly when he pulled away. “I thought it was just because… You know, with the end of the world.”

“You thought it was just a pre-apocalypse fling?” Asked Miller with dark humour.

“Basically,” said Jackson, finally smiling slightly.

“You’re an idiot.” Jackson’s smile reached his eyes.

“Jackson!” Yelled Abby, pounding on the door outside. “There’s a brawl in the kitchens. I'm gonna need you.”

“To be continued,” said Miller, gently pushing Jackson towards the door.

Miller himself rushed to the kitchen. Kane was already in the thick of it, trying to break apart the participants. He waded into the mess, using the baton that he never went without to separate the fighters.

It felt like only a few minutes that they were all contained. Some of the guards were assigned to take the prisoners to cool off in the cells, while some prisoners were escorted to the hospital where Abby and Jackson waited.

“Go to bed, Miller,” said Kane, once the fighters had been rounded up. “You’re not on duty.”

“Sir, I don’t mind working the next shift.”

Kane sighed. “ _Go_ , son.”


	2. Chapter 2

"Jackson," snapped Abby, and from the tone of voice, it wasn't the first time she'd tried to get his attention.

"Sorry, Abby."

She sighed heavily. "I know this is hard," she said. "But it will get easier I promise. We'll all come to the realisation we're all people." The increasing fights between clans – despite Octavia's resolutions, tensions were high – made training people in Skaikru medicines difficult. As a result, Jackson and Abby were stretched as far as they could go. "We'll need to train the grounder healers in our medicines as soon as possible," she said.

Jackson agreed; her eyes were heavy and her face looked thin. He was sure he looked the same, but that wasn’t what he was thinking about.

"We need a guinea pig; someone who won't mind being treated using our medicines by a grounder," she mused.

"You rang?" Said a voice behind them. It was full of humour, but the clear strain of pain soaked through the words. It was Miller, being carried by Kane.

Jackson's heart stopped. Both men were covered in blood. Kane rested Miller on a bed and Abby sprang to action, Jackson's actions a second delayed by his fear. While Abby injected him with a painkiller and questioned Kane, Jackson grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the guard uniform.

"One way to see me naked," joked Miller, grimacing in pain.

"Shut up," growled Jackson. Once his chest was clear, Jackson could clearly see the knife wound that sliced from his shoulder blade to his bellybutton in a wide arc. It was deep, but it hadn't hit anything vital; the blood was all a deep rich shade of red.

His eyes started to flutter shut; Abby had put him to sleep.

"Stitches," Abby said. Jackson passed her what she'd need and tried to focus on the things he could deal with - the blood pumping out of the wound and assisting Abby with the procedure.

He tried to avoid looking at Miller’s face. When his doomed effort failed, his hands slipped slightly. Kane had sunk into a chair beside the bed. He was holding his arm at a strange angle.

"Dislocated?" Asked Jackson, mostly trying to distract himself from what he was doing. A man like Kane would be fine with a dislocation for a few more minutes.

"What?" Snapped Abby. She'd finished sewing up Miller, and shoved the disinfectant and bandages into Jackson's hands and turned to Kane. "Sit still," she said angrily.

Jackson disinfected and taped the coverings over the wound. He'd been a doctor long enough that his hands only started shaking once he was done.

He wiped the blood from his hands and tried to stop the shaking. He had to wipe tears from his eyes to see his hands properly, to make sure the blood had gone. Miller’s blood. His head span sickeningly.

Abby was bossing Kane around in the far corner so Jackson took a seat by the bed. Miller was a bad colour.

“The boy was the priority,” said Kane defensively, in response to Abby’s remonstrations.

“Obviously,” snapped Abby, but she clearly didn’t have an actual comeback because she fell silent.

“Octavia’s finally taken the guns. Five citizens from each clan will be armed; she will select the ones she trusts. It was only a matter of time, I guess.”

Jackson’s head shot up in alarm. No guns? That gave Skaikru a significant disadvantage. At the same time, though, it was a relief. Guns could do a lot more damage.

Abby was muttering. Clearly she was as torn as he was. “It was Miller’s idea,” said Kane, nodding in his direction and meeting Jackson’s eyes for a second. He smiled sadly, and with a knowing look. “But I agree. They won’t trust us while we carry guns. Octavia will teach our five how to use their weapons. And we still have shockbatons. They’ll only be able to be used by Octavia’s selected guard. People she trusts.”

Jackson hadn’t slept in too long. He felt himself drift in the chair as Kane and Abby bickered in the background. Usually he would have paid attention, but his worry had sapped the last of his energy.

He woke to a dark hospital. Abby sat in the chair opposite him, also napping, but she seemed to rouse when he did.

“You ok?” She asked softly.

“Yeah,” said Jackson, lying through his teeth.

“I checked him about an hour ago,” she said, taking a quick look at the time, “he’ll be fine. His uniform saved his life.”

Jackson felt muscles he didn’t know he’d tensed relax.

“Do you want to go get some sleep?” She asked, “I’ll watch him.”

Jackson shook his head. “You’ve barely slept. I’ve got it.”

She stood up, stretching. As she walked past him, she rested one hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “None of us can treat our loved ones with a steady hand,” she said gently, “you did really well.”

He looked up in surprise. She only smiled and continued on to bed.

“She gone?” Groaned Miller, without opening his eyes. Jackson’s heart raced.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Asked Jackson as he leant forward to grab one of Miller’s hands. He felt his pulse as he did so. It was a little thready.

“I didn’t want her fussing over me. She’s worse than Clarke. You’re much more fun to have fussing over me.” He finally opened his eyes to smirk at Jackson.

“I knew you wanted to spend more time together; you picked a hell of a way to do it,” Jackson teased but his heart wasn’t in it, because it was still stuck somewhere in his throat.

“Well, it isn’t easy getting leave from the guard.” The mention of the guard reminded Jackson of something.

“You told Octavia to confiscate the guns.”

“She would have done it eventually. I thought it should happen _before_ someone gets shot.”

“As opposed to stabbed?”

“Would you rather have treated a hole in my lung?” Asked Miller rhetorically. Jackson shuddered. Miller stretched, grimacing with pain.

Jackson’s hands were shaking and Miller could feel them. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m still alive. I’m still ok.”

Jackson buried his head in his free hand.

“Why did you suggest it?”

“You of all people should know the answer to that,” said Miller, rolling his eyes at Jackson.

“Because of my fear?” He asked incredulously. “You lost your advantage.”

“Not because of your fear.” Miller seemed nervous, and unusually cagey.

“What, then?”

“I patched you up when you were shot by the drone, remember?” Jackson remembered only too well. “That was the first time I realised how tough you were.”

“Surviving getting shot in the arm?” Jackson asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve had far worse injuries.”

“No,” whispered Miller. He’d stopped looking at Jackson and he played with the corner of his blanket nervously. Jackson waited silently. Finally, Miller looked up at him. “I couldn’t handle treating that wound. It was so… so much blood. It had torn your arm open. It wasn’t a neat hole.”

“No,” said Jackson slowly. “They never are.”

“I realised that’s what I did to people, and you have to patch them up. I could put a bullet through an enemy or a meal with ease, but you have to have people carted in here, ripped open. You have to sew up holes in people’s skin that rips through their bodies. This was only on your arm, and I could barely…” Miller’s words faded away.

“You wanted the guns gone so _I_ didn’t have to treat bullet wounds?” Asked Jackson. It was too ludicrous.

“Basically,” muttered Miller. “I was right, though? That’s why you hate them?”

Jackson couldn’t deny it. Guns were too easy to use, and they left too much destruction behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a later inserted chapter

“Nate,” said David in his dream, “Come get me.” His dad stood at the bunker door, blood dripping from his nose and eyes, his skin mottled with radiation poisoning.

The setting changed and suddenly he was on the Ark being arrested. The clanging of the door resounded through his brain and struck fear into his heart. Only months until he was floated for this.

The deathwave was coming and he stood outside, without even a spacesuit to protect him. He could feel his skin burning and as he sucked in the air, it burnt his lungs too.

He had his gun in his hand and the door to the bunker stood ajar several metres away.

Crowds of people suddenly filled the space between him and refuge. He ran for it, pushing people out of the way when they weren’t quick enough. Someone grabbed his arm roughly, holding him back from safety. He turned and shot at the person. The bullet went straight through his father’s head.

He woke up panting, covered in sweat.

There was the dark outline of someone sitting on the side of his bed and he realised someone held his hand. He jumped, convinced that it was still part of his dream before his waking mind reasserted itself. The dark shape resolved into Jackson.

Jackson just sat quietly while Miller breathed himself back into a normal rhythm.

“My dad should be here instead of me,” said Miller quietly.

Those words hit Jackson like a spear through his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, and squeezed Miller’s hand as hard.

“Please don’t say that,” he said, his chest constricting in panic.

“He would be making everything ok. He would be making peace with the grounders, and protecting everyone. Kane trusts him. Everyone loved him.” Miller wiped away the tears that had started streaming down his face.

“I killed him, Eric,” said Miller, his voice broken. “I wasn’t on the list. Kane chose me. He chose wrong.”

“What…” started Jackson, then he had to clear his throat and start again. “What would have happened if your Dad woke up to find himself inside the bunker, and his son outside?”

He shook his head, but answered anyway. “He would have killed Kane.” Jackson breathed again, not realising until that moment that he’d been holding his breath against the answer.

“I was at the Ark when you were in the Mountain, Nate. Abby,” Jackson paused, knowing he shouldn’t be telling this story. “Abby wanted to evacuate. The grounders were threatening and we hadn’t made peace with them. Your father refused to go. He wasn’t going anywhere until you were safely back to him. I’ve never seen anyone love their child that much. Even Abby and Jaha voluntarily sent their children to the ground. Your father fought for you every step of the way. They didn’t tell him you were going to the ground until it was too late. It almost killed him.”

“Well, loving me did kill him.”

“No. The radiation killed him. Just like it killed everyone else.”

“Why aren’t we dead?” He asked in a whisper

“Because we’re fucking lucky.” The use of the swear word brought a spontaneous laugh from Miller. He’d never heard Jackson swear.

“I don’t feel lucky.”

“I don’t either,” admitted Jackson. Miller thought about Jackson’s life. Despite the fact that Nathan had grown up on Alpha Station with the Griffins, he didn’t know much about Jackson’s early life; he had only moved there after becoming a doctor. Jackson never talked about his biological family.

“Mum never talked about my dad,” said Jackson when he asked. “And my mum died when I was still at school.” He paused. He never talked about his mum. “All I wanted to do after that was help people.”

“I’m sorry,” said Miller. “It must have been hard.”

“The Ark was hard for a lot of people. I don’t hold the monopoly on that.”

Miller thought about his own upbringing. “Yeah, I guess so.”

They were silent for a bit, but the silence brought up too many negative thoughts.

“What was your mum like?” Asked Miller to break the silence.

Jackson thought about it. Over ten years since her death, and it still hurt too much to think about it. “She was sick for a long time before she died,” he said. That was how he remembered her now, to his own disgust, as a woman wasted away by cancer.

“Before that? When you were a kid?”

He’d grown up on Mecha Station originally. She wasn’t fastidious, and as often happens to children, he’d grown up to be the opposite. Miller’s arm wrapped around his middle. Jackson smiled at the tentative gesture.

“She was really spacey,” he said finally. “She used to annoy me so much, because she’d tell me stories about people I didn’t care about every time she got home from work. But she loved like no one else. She loved everyone so much. She would forgive someone in an instant if they were sorry.”

“She sounds wonderful."

“She was,” he whispered. The old memory of her dying intruded suddenly. He tried to shake it free, but he found tears falling. It had just been that kind of day.

“I’m sorry for asking,” said Miller, his face full of worry.

“Don’t be. I should remember her more. It’s just… I keep remembering her death instead of her life. She died in my arms. I was only a kid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I told you, I don’t hold the monopoly. You lost your mum, too.”

“I don’t remember her,” admitted Miller. “The only echo of her in my life was how much sway she still held over my dad. He never got over her death.”

The silence between them felt fragile. Their friendship had barely bloomed before the death in Becca’s lab. They hadn’t even acknowledged their feelings before they were locked in the bunker. Now they were holding together with a flimsy thread.


	4. Chapter 4

Miller fronted up to Kane, and was unsurprised to see Abby waiting as well. Kane asked him to sit, but he sat on the edge, nervous about this meeting. Kane was more formal than he’d seen him before. Abby stood, her arms across her chest.

“Is there a problem, Sir?”

“Dr Griffin would prefer it if you were taken off active duty.”

“What?” Cried Miller, leaping to his feet. “You can’t do that.”

“Sit down, please,” said Kane kindly. “We only want what’s best for you, son.”

“Taking my job away isn’t it,” he argued.

“Miller. There is plenty you can do to be helpful.”

“Oh great. As long as I can still be _helpful_.” He didn’t know how to be anything else. His father had raised him to be a guard; teaching him in private to use a shock-baton from a young age. He had taken to the guns Bellamy had found immediately. He wanted to protect his home, his people. It was what he’d been raised to do. If his father knew he wasn’t doing it…

“Miller,” said Kane softly, “your father sacrificed his spot in this bunker to keep you safe.”

“Don’t you dare,” hissed Miller.

“We can’t let you get hurt.”

“So I sit around being _safe_. My father was Chief Guard. I can do this job in my _sleep_.” Kane looked down, and his mouth was drawn into a thin line. Miller had never thought about the relationship between his father and Kane. Perhaps it was closer than he’d known.

Abby put a reassuring hand on Kane’s shoulder, but spoke to Miller. “We can’t risk you reinjuring yourself.” Her tone was less soft than Kane’s. She spoke with the detached tone of someone sure of winning the argument.

He wouldn’t survive in the bunker for five years without his job. It would kill him. He opened the door and stormed through it, slamming it behind him.

Jackson waited on the other side.

“Did you do this?” hissed Miller. He needed to take his frustration out on someone, and he suddenly couldn’t stand the look of compassion on Jackson’s face. “Did you convince Abby not to clear me for work?”

“Why would I do that?” Jackson seemed bewildered.

“To keep me _safe_?” Sneered Miller.

“Of course I want to keep you safe. But I didn’t make the decision. You’re not fit to work, Nate.”

 _Not fit to work?_ Miller felt like he’d been slapped. He shoved past Jackson.

“Wait, Nate,” he called.

Miller turned, furious. “You don’t get to decide what I’m _fit_ to do, _Jackson_.”

Jackson’s eyes hardened. “If you were honest with yourself I wouldn’t need to.”

“Float you, Jackson,” he spat. “You have no idea…” He couldn’t finish the thought.

“Right,” said Jackson coldly. He turned and walked away. Miller was too angry to go after him.

He almost ran down the hall before he realised he had no idea where he was going. Jackson, Kane. They were the only people in the bunker that he had anything to do with. The other guards were fine, but he wasn’t close to them. Octavia he knew from before, but that came with a capital “B” when it came to Octavia. The girl she was when the 100 landed bore no resemblance to the leader he saw now. In short, he had no one to turn to. He had nowhere to go, except back to his bunk, surrounded by people.

He couldn’t go there. Instead he wandered the hallways, trying to get lost. He wandered until he found the door to the bunker, and climbed the steps wearily. The pain from his wound was grinding him down.

He sat down on top of the steps, facing the unbreakable steel door that would let him out. In five years. If they survived that long. And if praimfaya hadn’t buried them. And if the ground was survivable again in five years. There were no guarantees left.

Soft footsteps sounded behind him.

“I know about Abby's decision,” said Octavia.

“I guess you'll have to give my weapons to someone else,” said Miller, not turning to look at her.

“You can keep your weapons. How many times did you save my brother's life, Miller?”

“By killing Trikru, your clan.”

“The clan that was killing us. And you fought the mountain men. You fought back without even having real weapons. Whether you're Skaikru guard or not, you've earnt your weapons.” She sounded sincere, not like Kane trying to make her feel better, or Jackson’s compassion, just stating the cold hard facts.

“I don't know what to do here now,” he admitted, feeling weak.

“I do,” she said bluntly. “You supported me to get rid of guns. I want your support for the peace. You've lost your job to an Azgeda blade. And unless I've misjudged you badly, you'd still rather peace than revenge.”

“I do.” Small flutterings of hope besieged him. He turned to look at her.

“I want you to be one of my ambassadors. We need to be one Cru. I think you can help.”

“I can’t use weapons, remember? And you've got Kane for that.” The name came out twisted. He hadn't forgiven him.

“You’re the only opinion of your abilities that I need. And I need as many as possible. The people are resisting coalition. As the wound on your chest will tell you.”

“Jackson said their healers were getting along well.” The work with the healers was the only thing Jackson had talked about recently.

“Your boyfriend is naive,” said Octavia bluntly.

“My boyfriend?” Miller shivered. Was that what he was? They’d kissed once before he’d been injured and since his injury, nothing but talking and even that seemed distant.

Octavia shrugged. “Word travels fast when there's nothing to do but talk.”

“We haven't really...” Miller sighed. “I don't know what we are. I think I ruined it.” His heart tore at the possibility.

“I don't think it would be easy to get rid of the affections of Eric Jackson once you've won them.” She sighed sadly. “You're a lucky man.” She sounded nostalgic, and Miller knew she was thinking of Lincoln.

Miller remembered her look on her face as Pike put a bullet in Lincoln's brain. He would never judge her for killing Pike, even if it had contributed to losing Brian. She had been entitled to that kill.

“Lincoln was an amazing human, Octavia. I'm... I'm really glad I knew him.”

“Thank you.”

“And I'm so sorry.” She didn't need to ask what for. Both were lost in the past.

“We were so young, then.”

“As opposed to the old man and woman we are now,” he joked half-heartedly.

“I feel old.” She sounded it, too; world-weary.

“Me too.” They both laughed shortly, then lapsed into silence. It felt comfortable, but it was soaked in the sadness of nostalgia.

“Even Kane sees me as Heda now,” she said, and there was such sorrow in her voice that Miller reached to squeeze her hand. She smiled up at him. “Here, only you seem to remember the girl from under the floor.”

“The girl who got to be first on the ground.”

“The girl who flirted her way through all the boys from the 100.”

“You never flirted with me,” he said, feigning hurt.

She laughed. “I'm _so_ sorry.”

“You're forgiven.”

“Until my brother comes home, you’re the only one who doesn’t see Heda. Promise me you'll never forget that little girl who saw the promise of Earth.”

“I never could. She had quite the impact.”

She laughed and wiped away a few tears. “Now go make up with that handsome boyfriend of yours,” she said. “Then clear your schedule; I want you in all meetings from now on. You and I will be spending a lot of time together.”

He mock saluted. “Yes, ma-am.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson/Abby-centric, with Miller at the end

Jackson’s shift had ended an hour ago. He’d gone to support Miller, but he’d been brushed off. Jackson knew he was going to take it badly, but he’d wanted to help in any way he could. Maybe he’d helped by giving Miller a target for his rage. The thought of that brought a lump to his throat. He couldn’t stop working; as soon as his shift had ended, he’d have nothing to stop him thinking about it. And if he went back to his bunk, Miller might be there. If he went to the on-call room, Miller would think he was avoiding him. It was better to keep working even if there was nothing to do. They had no patients; he was only checking everything for the hundredth time.

Jackson wondered for the thousandth time whether he should have gone after Miller. But he’d needed space. But maybe he needed someone to be there for him. Jackson swung back and forwards between these thoughts, without resting for longer than a second.

“Jackson, you need to knock off,” said Abby, behind him, startling him out of his reverie.

“I just…” he said, but he didn’t have a response or an excuse ready.

“You’re just working to avoid thinking about other things. I know that trick,” she smiled. She put her hand on his arm. “We made the right decision, Jackson.” He swallowed back his retort. _She_ had made the decision. But he’d have made exactly the same one in her shoes

 “I’m scared,” he admitted, knowing as he said it that he would never have admitted that to anyone else. “I wouldn’t know what to do if I wasn’t a doctor. I don’t know what he’ll do without his role here.”

“Jackson, you’re a good doctor. The best I’ve ever seen. But you can’t _fix_ this. This is his issue to work through. All you can do is provide your support.”

Abby had always been a hard mentor. From when he first started as her apprentice, even when she finally trusted him to run procedures on his own, the only feedback he got was where he could improve. He never minded; she pushed herself as hard as she did him. But her words warmed him now.

“What if it’s not enough?” He whispered, voicing his real fear at last. What if he could do nothing?

“I failed Raven,” said Abby, swallowing hard against her admission. “I let Clarke leaving overshadow everything and I didn’t help Raven the way she needed help. I kept trying to _fix_ her, and never let her fix herself. Don’t make my mistake. Nathan’s lost his father. He’s lost his friends. Now he’s lost his job, which gave him purpose. He’s lost the freedom of movement he took for granted. You have to let him come to terms with all of that. Just be there for him.”

“Thank you, Abby,” he said. He still couldn’t swallow past the hard lump in his throat, but Abby’s calm reassured him, as it always did.

“Just look after yourself as well, Jackson. I can’t lose you, too.”

Abby had tears in her eyes as she said it. She hadn’t mentioned Clarke to him once since the death-wave. He wrapped his arms around her, wordlessly. She hugged him back tightly.

“You have an amazing daughter, Abby. She’ll find her way back to you.”

“I know,” she whispered, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was more scared than she was letting on. It scared Jackson, as it always did, to see Abby anything but in control. She was his pillar.

“Am I interrupting something?” Miller’s voice drifted quietly from the doorway.

“Not a thing,” said Abby, letting Jackson go.

“Can I steal Jackson?”

 “Please,” she laughed, “he’s outstayed his welcome.”

Jackson smiled nervously at Miller.

“Oh, and Nathan Miller?” Said Abby, pretending sternness, but more light-hearted than she had been in a long time. Miller turned to look at her. “Look after my boy.”

He saluted for the second time that day. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jackson flushed and almost fled from the room, Miller on his heels.

They started laughing once they reached the corridor.

“What’s it like having Abby Griffin as a boss? Is it as terrifying as it seems?”

Jackson smiled, thinking about the woman who was his mentor, his best friend, his second mother, and yes, the most terrifying person he knew. “It’s the best thing in the world.”

“Well, I’m still scared of her.”

“Yeah, but you’re scared of Clarke.”

“Clarke’s scary.”

“Hey, that’s my family you’re talking about,” joked Jackson. He couldn’t believe he felt this cheerful. Less than 15 minutes ago, all he’d felt was dread.

Miller was surprised to hear him call the Griffins family.

“She always looked out for me while my mum was sick. She helped my mum as much as she could while she was ill; and helped me out when it got too much for me. Then she had a grieving teen front up to her door one day asking how to become a doctor. She let me watch procedures until I finished school, then I became her apprentice. Clarke would always come in after school, too. Once I started doing procedures on my own, Clarke would help. Before Jake was floated and Clarke was locked up, they were the happiest family I knew. But they never intentionally made me feel left out.”

Miller noticed the nuance of language. So Jackson _had_ felt left out. He just didn’t blame the Griffins for it.

Jackson slipped an arm behind Miller’s back. It was only when he did this that Miller realised he’d been walking with a hunch, trying to take the pressure off his wound. He wrapped his arm gratefully around Jackson’s arm and allowed himself to lean slightly.


	6. Chapter 6

Miller’s mood was as sour as it could get. The meeting had turned into slings across the table as each clan argued. When one of the Sangedakru drew a blade, the meeting had ended, with Octavia’s entourage putting a swift end to things. No one drew a blade in Octavia’s presence without consequences. At least they had yet to avoid any deaths. _Yet_ , he thought sourly.

When he made it to the medical room, Jackson wasn’t there, but he could hear his voice from the hospital. Abby must have him working late. _Again_. They’d agreed to meet in the medical on call room.

When he entered the hospital, it was empty except for Jackson and one of the grounder healers; a young woman called Sain. She seemed to be crying, and Jackson was hugging her, talking softly with a sad smile on his face. She chuckled softly.

Miller couldn’t hear what either of them were saying, but his day crashed down on him. Not for the first time, his anger turned towards Jackson, and his fucking _compassion_. The rational side of his mind knew he was being selfish, but he was too angry to care. Miller _needed_ him, and Jackson was off comforting someone else.

Jackson looked up and met Miller’s eyes in surprise. He smiled wearily over the grounder girl’s shoulder when he recognised him, but Miller only glared and turned away. He made his way back to the bunks in disgust. When he threw himself onto the bed and realised Jackson hadn’t followed he was even more disgusted. Mostly at himself.

The reason he liked Jackson was his compassion, wasn’t it? That was what had drawn him to the man, but lately it had only annoyed him. The man was too soft, he thought. He groaned and put his hands over his eyes.

He woke up with a start, only realising on waking that he’d drifted. More bunks were filled, but the lights weren’t off yet.

Jackson’s bunk was empty.

He swung himself upright and lurched to his feet. He stared at the empty bunk, feeling his stomach churn. Why couldn’t he just get this right?

He walked to the medical room and knocked. Déjà vu flooded him. When Jackson opened the door and crossed his arms, it intensified.

They hadn’t kissed since that day. It seemed ludicrous to Miller that he could have this man standing right there and not kiss him, but something always held him back, and he knew what it was.

“It’s Bryan,” he said, without preamble. Jackson stiffened and stepped back, his arms loosening in surprise.

“What?” He asked, his voice soaked in hurt.

Nathan closed the door behind him. They were alone again in the tiny room.

“You, Eric,” he said, struggling and failing to find the right words. “You’re… compassionate.” He spoke with the frustration level he felt. It was an inadequate word, all of a sudden, to describe how very much Jackson cared.

It was impossible to articulate it. Jackson looked hurt, and Nathan didn’t know how to make it better.

“Eric, I love you,” he said abruptly.

Jackson’s face was full of shock. He opened his mouth but no words came out. His expression was very eloquent, though. It just asked a question. Why? Why if Nathan loved him did he keep running away? Why had they not picked up where they’d left off before Nathan’s injury?

“The grounder girl,” said Nathan, his eyes trained somewhere on Jackson’s chest. He realised his explanation was disjointed, but his head was a mess.

“What about her? Her sister died in Praimfaya.”

“And so did my Dad, and so did all of our parents, friends, lovers,” snapped Nathan.

“So her suffering doesn’t matter?” Asked Jackson incredulously.

“No, it matters. It matters to all of us. We all carry around our suffering. But you, Jackson,” he said pointedly. Jackson flinched slightly at the use of his last name. Nathan hadn’t used it in so long. “You carry around all of it.”

“What?”

“Do you know why Bryan and I broke up?”

Jackson shook his head mutely.

“Bryan saved _his_ friend’s life at the expense of the rest of Skaikru. He prioritised Skaikru safety over 300 human lives when he chose Pike. He prioritised my safety over everyone else’s when he defected from Pike. He chose _his_ loved ones over every other life. He chose his loved ones over himself.”

“That’s natural, Nate,” said Jackson softly, trying to get Miller to look him in the eye.

“He broke his heart trying to save those he loved. And he killed himself because he couldn’t handle it.”

“Nathan. I’m so sorry.” Jackson moved to put a hand on his shoulder but the younger boy moved away.

“You don’t understand. He tore himself up just trying to save his loved ones. You? You try to save _everyone_.” Miller heard his voice rising. He was so angry at Jackson. “You’re going to try to save every single stupid person in this place. You will listen to my nightmares about my Dad, you’ll give a grounder girl your shoulder to cry on. You’ll cover for Abby every time she has to go be Ambassador, even though she’s not needed. You’ll run the fucking _death_ lottery because Kane asked you to, even though I _saw_ how much it destroyed you to do it.”

“I’m a doctor, Nathan, that’s my job.”

“Not. Anymore. Now it’s your job to survive, just like the rest of us.”

“I can’t just…”

“You can’t just let people suffer, I know. But we’re _all_ suffering. And guess what? There’s not a thing you can do about it.”

Jackson’s eyes were full of tears. “I can’t accept that.”

“Well, you’re going to have to. Because I’m not watching another man I love destroy himself.”

“You’re asking me to stop being a doctor.”

“No, I’m asking you to _just_ be a doctor. Just do your job, Eric. Just like every other person here. Just do your job.”

Miller stared at Jackson, but he had no response. He just looked back at him, his mouth pinched into a thin line.

Miller shook his head. He couldn’t soften those words. He’d said what he’d needed to say, and frustration still raged too strongly in his gut to back down on this.

“I’ve gotta go. Need my sleep,” he muttered finally, turning to the door.

“Nathan, wait.”

“What?” He asked, one hand on the doorknob.

“You ask the impossible.”

Miller turned around. “Like you all did telling me I couldn’t be a guard?” He turned around. Jackson’s eyes were red from tiredness, and heavy bags sat underneath. His face was pale, and pinched, and he looked even thinner than usual. Miller knew he would see his ribs clearly if he took his shirt off. “Abby would tell you exactly what I’m telling you if she wasn’t busy having _exactly the same problem_.”

That drew a slight chuckle from Jackson, but his eyes were still dull. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to come straight here as soon as your shift ends. I will drag you to the kitchens and force-feed you your rations if I have to. We’ll go for a walk so you don’t go stir-crazy. We’ll come back here where we will both get the recommended sleep for a young adult. I believe it’s 8 hours.”

“Nathan, I,” he started. Miller could see it in his eyes. He wanted to promise. He wanted to go along with this, but it wasn’t in his nature. His eyes were so pained Miller could hardly look at them.

Miller stepped forward and put his hand gently on Jackson’s head. He kissed him softly, his lips barely leaving a dent on the other man’s. Jackson’s hands shook as he put his hands up to Miller’s shoulders to pull him closer. His breath was just as shaky as they parted.

Miller put his hand to Jackson’s cheek. “How long since you ate?”

Jackson shook his head weakly. “I don’t remember.” Miller’s chest constricted painfully.

“Well, that’s our first stop then.” Jackson didn’t protest as Miller pulled him to the kitchens, but he wasn’t enthusiastic, either. Miller slipped his hand into Jackson’s. It was silly, but it felt like some kind of confirmation of their relationship, like they were still children on the Ark.

They picked up their allotted rations and sat at one of the empty tables. They were mostly empty this late.

Jackson stared at his meal in what looked like confusion, like he didn’t know what to do with the food.

Granted, the dried meat strips didn’t look appetising, but they were better than nothing. Miller started eating, but Jackson didn’t even try to pick up his food. He looked faintly nauseated.

“Seriously,” said Miller, swallowing his mouthful. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” He put his hand on Jackson’s. It was trembling.

Jackson just shook his head. Miller’s stomach was completely tied up in knots watching him.

Finally, Jackson picked up his food, chewing like it was made of leather, which wasn’t far off for some of it. He swallowed with his eyes closed. Miller kept watching him as he systematically chewed and swallowed.

When he was finished he looked at Miller. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“No worries,” said Miller.

Looking into Miller’s worried eyes, Jackson wanted to say _I love you_ , but he couldn’t. The last person he’d said it to was his mother while she was dying. There were so many people he could have said it to.

He could have said it to Abby. He could have said it to Clarke, because he loved that tenacious little girl who used to get under his feet in the clinic, and actually helped out more often than not. He could have said it to Raven in Becca’s lab; it had physically hurt him to watch her go through the pain she had.

He could say it to Miller, but it seemed too concrete to say it out loud. Instead, he stood up. Only after the food did he realise how weak he’d let himself become. Not sleeping properly, barely eating, and working every waking hour. He was exhausted.

“8 hours?” He asked shakily.

“Absolutely,” said Miller, smiling, leading the way back to their bunks, scared that being in the on call room would make Jackson feel too much like he was working. Every bunk had a curtain set up to be drawn around it. _Like a hospital_ , Jackson thought.

Instead of separating, Miller shrugged off his jacket and lay down on Jackson’s bed. Jackson did the same, lying next to him on his back.

They stared at the ceiling for a couple of moments until, like they’d read each other’s mind, they both turned to fold the other in his arms. Jackson slipped his arm under Miller’s head and Miller snuggled into the crook of Jackson’s shoulder.

“Before the 8 hours of sleep,” whispered Jackson, and he reached to cup Miller’s cheek in his hand, raising the man’s head until he could reach his lips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A baby is born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medical problems in this chapter. I apologise for my lack of medical knowledge.

Sain stumbled into the hospital. The hospital was freezing, and Sain was sweating. “Jackson,” she cried. He rushed over to hold her up; she looked on the verge of collapsing.

“What’s happened, Sain?” He asked fearfully, supporting her to one of the beds. As she collapsed, her oversized shirts fell back, exposing a swollen belly.

“How did you hide this?” Asked Jackson in shock, while his body went through the motions of preparing for a birth.

He sent a quick page to Abby, then approached Sain carefully. The fear in her eyes terrified him, so he tried to make his approach as gentle as possible.

“Sain, I’m going to have to check you out.”

She grabbed his hands so tightly he could feel his bones crunching against each other. But she nodded.

“I didn’t think…” she started. “They wouldn’t have let me in. I couldn’t let her die.” She touched her belly. Jackson only nodded, too focused on making sure he had everything he would need.

Abby came running in as Jackson lifted the baby up. She looked about to start yelling, but stopped short at the sight of the baby.

Her leg was clearly stunted, twisting at the end. Jackson and Abby just looked at each other. Azgeda would never accept it. Jackson looked at Sain and his heart sped up.

“Abby!” He cried. Births weren’t common on the Ark, but he’d been part of enough, and he knew what a normal amount of postpartum bleeding looked like. This wasn’t it.

“There are no tears,” said Abby, checking.

Jackson placed the baby on one of the beds and drew blood quickly to analyse Sain’s bloodtype.

“I’ve delivered the placenta,” said Abby.

Sain died in the third hour just as the lights of the bunker started coming on. Jackson was holding the baby, running tests to check her health when Sain went into cardiac arrest.

Jackson picked the baby back up after Sain passed, holding her close.

“She doesn’t have any family,” said Jackson quietly.

“She has a clan, Jackson,” replied Abby wearily. She sat by Sain’s bed, not looking away from the woman’s face.

“They’ll never accept a…” he murmured, not wanting to use the Trigedasleng word.

“I have to talk to Octavia,” said Abby. “Can you?” She asked, gesturing at the baby girl sleeping in Jackson’s arms.

“Of course,” he whispered huskily, rocking her absentmindedly.

She started fussing, and Jackson gave her his little finger to play with. Her legs kicked out of the blanket Jackson had wrapped her in; her left leg was as strong as her right. He was so absorbed in watching her, he didn’t notice the entrance of Octavia, Indra, Kane and Abby.

“No one from Trikru will take an Azgeda child, and I doubt another clan will, either” said Indra bluntly, startling Jackson. “And we can force them to take a Frikdreina, but they won’t love her.”

Indra looked at the child so analytically, that Jackson reflexively pulled her closer. He focused his attention on the baby so he didn’t have to look at the gathered leaders. He despised them for standing there trying to figure out what to do with her, like she was a nuisance. She was a baby. It wasn’t her fault she’d caused them problems.

No one said anything, so Jackson took a breath. “No one will call her Frikdreina,” he said quietly into the room’s silence.

“Many people will call her that,” Indra contradicted him sharply.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” said Octavia, resting her hand on her sword hilt. Indra just nodded, her hawk eyes not leaving the baby. Jackson respected Indra, but her gaze made him want to shield the baby.

“We still need to find her a place,” said Kane softly.

“We can keep her here in the meantime,” said Abby. “We’d need to anyway, to make sure she’s… healthy.” The pause did not go unnoticed by any of the gathered people and silence fell once more.

She’s healthy, thought Jackson. She’s perfect.

“Right,” said Octavia, all business. “I need to talk to the ambassadors.” The others left with her, except Abby. She looked at Jackson and her eyes were softer than the others’.

“What would you do with her?” She asked quietly.

“I’d give her to someone who could love her. Someone who would never see the mutation as a defect.”

“Well, she’s got at least one champion,” Abby said, smiling at her former apprentice rocking the baby.

“Octavia will make sure she’s looked after,” said Jackson.

“If Indra’s right about the clans, that leaves Skaikru,” suggested Abby. “And I think she is. The clans chose for strength, not sentimentality.”

“Who in Skaikru…?” He started to ask, then realised he knew exactly who he hoped they’d choose. Him. He was the closest to Sain outside of Azgeda.

He swallowed, but if he didn’t speak up, he’d regret it.

“I can take her,” he said quietly.

“Jackson,” said Abby, her tone expressing the unspoken words: are you sure?

“I’m never going to have a child of my own,” he said bluntly. “And she’s…” he started, looking down at the tiny girl. There were no words to describe it. He needed to make sure she was protected. He trusted Abby, he trusted Kane, and he trusted Octavia. But he didn’t trust any of them to love the girl as much as he did. They were too analytical about what to do with her.

“I can suggest it,” said Abby.

“No. Don’t suggest it. I will tell them that I will look after her.”

“Don’t you think you should ask…?” She started.

“Ask?” Interrupted Jackson. “No.” He didn’t know what had come over him. But this was his decision to make. His heart thumped uncomfortably at the thought of Nathan. What would he say? It didn’t change Jackson’s decision, but his stomach churned at the thought of what could be a negative reaction. What if he lost Nathan over this?


	8. Chapter 8

Miller could hear his heartbeat in his ears. The look on Kane’s face when he had directed Nathan to go talk to Jackson scared the crap out of him.

Kane wouldn’t give him any clues except to tell him to hurry, because it wasn’t something anyone else should tell him apparently.

When he walked into the hospital he was brought up short by the sight of a baby in Jackson’s arms. There had been a birth? Would this compromise their carefully allocated resources? Then the more pressing matter of Kane’s directive took over.

“Kane said I should come as fast as I could. I thought you’d been hurt. Have you been hurt?” He realised he was rambling, but he was annoyed that he’d been so scared and Jackson seemed fine. “Are you dying?” He asked, trying to pass it off as a joke, but swallowing hard.

Jackson looked up with a nervous smile on his face. “Do you remember Sain?” He asked.

Miller nodded and looked at the newborn baby. “She was pregnant?” He asked in shock.

Jackson nodded, and tears appeared in his eyes. “This is her daughter.”

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically, but Kane’s directive was too urgent. “And I need to know this immediately and skip my shift because…” He asked. “Did you knock her up?” He asked joking awkwardly. “Is this you telling me you’re a father?”

“No to the first.” Jackson swallowed nervously. “Yes to the second.”

Miller stumbled forward a few feet and sat on the bed opposite where Jackson was sitting in one of the chairs. They were knee to knee.

“Run that by me again?” Asked Miller.

“Sain didn’t make it,” said Jackson needlessly. Miller had worked that much out by her absence. Instead of explaining immediately, Jackson lay aside the blanket, showing Miller her legs. “Sain was Azgeda,” he finally said. “We asked anyway, but they won’t accept her. And Sain had no relatives in here.”

“And you have to take her?” Asked Miller sceptically.

“No,” said Jackson, sharper than he meant to. “Octavia could have forced Azgeda to take her, mutation and all. And they would have made her feel like an outsider, just like Sangedakru did with Emori. Any of the clans would have. They would have taken her, and maybe even cared for her needs, but in the end, she would have ended up just like Emori.”

“You want to protect her,” said Miller, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. He’d questioned Jackson’s decision and he hated himself for it. He’d never heard Jackson use so many words in one go.

“I want her to be loved,” he said, looking at the sleeping baby.

_Already achieved_ , thought Miller watching his boyfriend’s face almost jealously. Miller cleared his throat uncomfortably and held out his arms. “May I?” He asked.

Jackson looked up hesitantly, and then carefully passed over the bundle. Miller had held a baby exactly once, but she fit comfortably in his arms. He looked down at her face. She had it all screwed up, and Miller laughed at the sight, then looked up at Jackson, whose eyes hadn’t left the baby.

“Does she have a name?” He asked carefully.

Jackson shook his head. “She’s the only baby. It’s not like we have to differentiate.”

“What do you want to call her?” Asked Miller. Jackson just shrugged. He smiled up at Miller, though. Miller had a thought, but it filled his stomach with butterflies to suggest it. What if Jackson hated it. “What about Mary?”

“How do you know my mum’s name?” Asked Jackson, freezing.

“I asked Abby,” admitted Miller. “I wasn’t sure how to ask you.”

Miller’s heart was hammering; Jackson still hadn’t unfrozen and he was terrified he’d overstepped some barrier.

“She would have loved you,” he finally whispered.

“You said she loved everyone. So I shouldn’t read too much into that?” Joked Miller.

He’d never been good with too much emotion and the stress was too much right now.

He was relieved when Jackson smiled. “She would have loved you especially,” he said in a more normal tone of voice. “Because you make me happy.”

“Is that a yes?” Jackson only nodded. Miller smiled down at the baby. “Welcome to the world, Mary. It is a super strange place. I’m sure you’ll love it. We’ll make sure you do.”


	9. Chapter 9

“How’s our newest human being?” Asked Abby brightly. It was a brittle brightness. She hadn’t been the same recently.

“She’s doing really well,” said Jackson, proudly. Abby leant over her improvised cradle, and picked her up gently. “Hey, baby girl,” she cooed. Jackson had never seen her this close with a baby. She was lovely with the child patients, but babies never brought out a maternal side in her.

“Mary,” said Jackson.

Abby looked up with slightly moist eyes. “Mary?”

“Miller’s idea,” mumbled Jackson, looking away from making eye contact.

“Never let him go,” said Kane, striding confidently into the hospital. Jackson was sure he was blushing an ungodly colour. “Hey, grandma,” joked Kane, wrapping his arms gently around Abby’s waist and kissing her cheek.

Jackson’s embarrassment reached a peak, and he wanted nothing more than to flee the room, but his embarrassment only tripled when Miller followed Kane into the room. “Is it time to play with Dr Abby?” He asked the room generally, but it was in the voice he reserved for Mary.

“Yes, actually,” said Kane, smiling at the baby. He looked up at the two boys. “We thought we would spend some time with our little grandkid, here, and you two can have the day off.” It didn’t sound like a joke this time, saying ‘grandkid’.

Jackson and Miller exchanged a look, that was mostly just questioning. “If that’s what you want to spend your time off doing…” said Miller slowly, looking sideways at Jackson.

“I can’t think of anything better,” said Kane, smiling indulgently. His eyes barely left the baby’s face, and neither did Abby’s. They were in their own little world. Jackson and Miller left without saying anything more.

“That was weird,” said Miller, after they’d closed the door on the on call room.

“Yeah,” said Jackson, but he didn’t really agree. It wasn’t weird at all. Abby had been treating Jackson differently lately, and he realised that this was the first time she truly believed Clarke had died. Her actions since Jackson adopted Mary had confirmed something in him about the way she’d been treating him. She believed Mary was her only chance at a grandchild the way Jackson believed she was his only chance at a child.

“Abby thinks this is the only grandchild she’ll have,” is what he ended up saying out-loud.

“That’s ridiculous,” said Miller, “Clarke…” He paused. “She doesn’t think Clarke survived?”

“She says she does.”

“But you don’t think…” Jackson only shook his head. He knew now, Abby believed deep down Clarke had died, just like on the Ark she had believed deep down that her daughter had survived somehow.

“Shit,” said Miller. “But Kane.”

“Will support anything Abby does right now. Possibly ever.”

“So our child’s grandparents are Dr Griffin and Kane?” Asked Miller slowly. “I guess I’ll have to come to terms with that eventually.” He laughed.

Jackson was speechless, and when he didn’t respond, Miller looked at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, frowning. Jackson’s face had gone very still.

“You said…” He swallowed and started again. “You said ‘our child’.”

Miller’s heart dropped with fear. “Was that wrong? I didn’t mean to presume. But…” He trailed off when Jackson slid his hand into Miller’s.

“Nothing wrong. I, um, I liked you saying it.” It was a massive understatement, and from the way Miller’s face split into a grin, they both knew it.

Nothing else seemed to need saying.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They emerge from the bunker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer confirmed: Mackson survives the bunker! Given how heartbroken Jackson looks when they hug, I'm sure I'm going to be absolutely miserable when the show starts, but I need to take some positive so this is my unrealistically positive take.

The Ark survivors watched from where they were camped. They'd been in contact with Octavia when they'd first been able to dig out the bunker, but she'd only just opened the doors to the rest of the inhabitants.

Wonkru streamed out as a group; over a thousand people emerging from the wreckage of the temple a few at a time.

Monty watched from near the door; watching them walk into the light, blinking, his heart clenched.

Suddenly, a little girl burst through the crowds. She ran with a loping limp, and she alone did not look underfed.

Following her was a figure Monty would always recognise, regardless of time. He looked older, and even thinner than the others around him. Monty watched as Miller reached the little girl and swung her up into his arms. She giggled loudly, her gaze fixed on everything else.

“Put me down!” She shrieked, laughing.

Miller wasn’t laughing. He looked terrified, but pasted a smile on his face for the girl. His eyes roamed restlessly, until they landed on Monty. Monty lifted his hand in greeting, then his face muscles caught up and he grinned, running over to meet him.

“Miller!” He called.

Monty wanted to throw himself at the man and hug him, but six years and the presence of a small child in his arms stopped him. Instead, they approached slowly. Miller shifted the child to his hip. She’d gone quiet at the change in focus, and was staring at Monty.

“This is Monty,” said Miller to the child, though his gaze didn’t leave Monty’s.

“Nice to meet you,” she said shyly, burying her head into Miller’s shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said. The words felt like cotton wool in his mouth.

“Mary,” supplied Miller.

Monty looked questioningly at Miller.

“This is my daughter.”

Monty could only stare, gobsmacked, at the child. “Octavia didn’t tell us you had a daughter.”

He shrugged awkwardly. "I'm guessing it wasn't top of her priority list."

Jackson had stayed in the bunker among the medics, prepared for injuries. Whether that would come from the outside environment or a fight breaking out, they weren't sure, but he'd been too nervous being away from Mary, and come up to find her.

“Can I get down, now, Daddy?” Asked Mary.

Miller looked over at Jackson making his way over and repeated the question for him. He shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll take her.” Miller held the slightly wriggling child out for Jackson to take. “Nice to see you again, Monty,” he said with a quiet smile. Monty couldn't tear his eyes away. His family had struggled, certainly, but both Miller and Jackson looked like shells of their former selves; like they'd gone without food for the whole six years, and Miller walked like he'd been injured.

“So…” Said Monty. Miller looked back at him and smiled the same Miller smile Monty remembered. He pulled Monty into a bone-crushing hug. Monty didn’t want to squeeze too hard. With his thinness, Miller looked fragile; a rare turn around.

“How did you get a daughter?” He asked, hoping it wasn’t an insensitive question. His eyes wanted to scrutinise Jackson with the girl, but he kept them focused on Miller.

“Eric and I adopted her,” he said, grinning proudly. His love for his daughter shone through his words.

“Clarke has an adoptee, too,” said Monty, gesturing to where the ark survivors stood.

Jackson looked over at Clarke and it was only the presence of Mary that stopped him racing over. He walked quickly, though, eager to reunite. Miller and Monty followed.

“So, you and Jackson,” commented Monty quietly, and awkwardly.

“It’s so weird how much you don’t know,” said Miller, the smile dropping. “But we’ve got plenty of time now to catch up.”

Octavia had left to oversee the exodus and Bellamy had followed instantly, not able to leave his sister's side. He'd barely said a word since he'd seen her. Only Clarke, Harper and Echo huddled together with the child that Miller had to assume was Clarke's adoptee.

Clarke threw herself into Jackson's arms. Mary was still on his hip, between them.

"Where's Mum? Octavia wouldn't tell us. She would have come straight out."

Jackson looked down. "She's alive," he said, extracting himself. "Octavia doesn't want Abby to leave the medic centre."

Harper was hugging Miller. The group was silent. After six years apart, no one could think of that much to say; the state of Wonkru had hit them all hard, and they’d been apart too long to fall naturally back into a rhythm.

Eventually, Mary started squirming in Jackson’s arms, and Clarke focused on the child.

“Who’s this?” She asked, never mind the fact that she’d already squeezed the child she wanted to be introduced to.

“This is Mary,” said Miller, nervous suddenly of introducing her. “Jackson and I adopted her. Mary, this is Auntie Clarke.”

Mary held her arms out to Clarke for a cuddle, flooring Jackson and Miller both.

“Hi, Mary,” she said.

“Auntie Clarke!” She cried.  
“Don’t think you guys were forgotten,” said Miller, smiling sadly. “We talked about you all non-stop. Mary couldn’t wait to meet the rest of her family.”

"I want to see Mum," said Clarke.

Jackson shook his head. "You'll have to wait." Octavia had the exodus planned to the smallest detail. Abby was restricted to the medic centre and she wouldn't allow anyone to re-enter in case of contamination.

Mary smiled at her. She provided a distraction for the quiet reunion. As she gained confidence, she started chattering to all of them about her lessons. She wasn’t at all awed by the open spaces, just took it in her stride.

 

***

 

Jackson found Miller in a tent that they’d erected earlier that day. There was no way either of them were prepared to sleep back in the bunker, as many were doing.

“Monty’s taken to Mary,” said Jackson, to explain her absence, but he was paraphrasing. His actual words were along the lines of ‘how long has it been since you’ve been alone together?’

Miller was lying on his back with his arms crossed over his face. His shirt had ridden up and Jackson found the view very appealing, but when he sat down next to his partner, he noticed the dampness on the pillow.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Is everything ok?”

Miller pulled his hands away from his eyes, but he stayed staring at the ceiling. His tears had stopped, but his eyes were still red. “They’ve all changed so much,” he said.

“So have you. So have we all. We survived the end of the world, Nate.”

“I know, but I missed out on so much. You’re my family, but so were they, once.”

“They’re still your family, Nate. Look how fast they’ve taken in Mary.”

“But look at how they’ve changed. I wasn’t part of that life.”

“You’re jealous,” said Jackson, realising. He didn’t say it in accusation, but Miller groaned and put his hands back over his eyes, digging his palms into them in disgust.

“I know how ridiculous it is. We all did everything we could to survive. We ended up separated. It’s not like they had a good time; up in space with nothing to eat but algae, barely enough water. But they had each other.”

Jackson knew what Miller was saying, but it sent a wave of hurt washing over him. “So did we,” said Jackson, the hurt coming through in his voice. Miller wrapped his arms around Jackson’s waist and buried his head in his stomach.

“I just don’t want to admit that I got old,” said Miller.

Jackson laughed humourlessly. “Good save. You’re all of 24,” he said.

“Yeah, but everything we've been through...”

“And you think your friends are still young?” Asked Jackson skeptically.

Miller thought of Clarke. She had spent 6 years either alone or with Madi. She had adopted a young girl and been solely responsible for their safety. She hadn’t heard from the bunker or the Ark for those years. Miller knew that, in the scheme of everything, he had no right to complain. He pulled back and Jackson lay down beside him.

“I’m glad I had you,” said Miller.

“I’m glad I had you, too,” said Jackson, “now, Monty has given us a whole night to ourselves. Do you want to make the most of it?”

Miller snuggled into Jackson’s side and kissed the side of his neck. “You mean I get 8 uninterrupted hours of sleep?”

He laughed. “Absolutely.”

“And maybe some time for other activities?” Asked Miller after a pregnant pause. Jackson’s laugh sounded relieved. He leaned over and kissed Miller with passion, running his hand up under his shirt, until Miller shrugged out of it. He felt young again.


End file.
